Head Case
by Prospero's Pal
Summary: Malcolm suffers a blow to the head but Reese suffers more than he does.
1. Chapter 1

Reese Wilkerson had never been shy about nudity so it really didn't surprise his brother when he walked into the bedroom stark naked. He was dripping wet and fresh out of the shower.

"Where the hell are the clean towels?" Reese walked around the room, looking for something to dry off with.

"There aren't any, Mom said we have to do our own laundry while she's working overtime for the next week. I guess nobody got around to doing a load of towels. There are some used ones in the hamper if you don't mind the fact that Dewey wiped his ass with most of them." Malcolm told him, laughing.

"It's not funny, butt munch! I'm soaking wet here. Maybe I'll just dry my ass with one of your shirts." Reese opened the closet and grabbed one of Malcolm's good shirts.

Malcolm tossed down the book he was reading, jumped off the bed and ran over to Reese. He roughly pushed his brother aside, snatched the shirt away from him and hung it back up. He then flipped Reese off, extending his middle finger inches away from his brother's nose. Reese grabbed him and thought about hitting him, instead he pushed him away. The younger boy tripped and fell hard, banging his head on the side of his desk.

"Oh my god! Malcolm! Are you ok? God I'm sorry! I didn't mean to hurt you!" The naked teen dropped to his knees and looked at his bleeding brother. He was laying face down on the floor and a pool of blood was starting to form around his head. Reese turned him over and sat him up straight, blood poured from the wound on the younger boy's forehead, flowing down the left side of his face and neck, and his shirt was getting soaked with it. Reese carefully laid him back down on his back and gently shook him by the shoulders. "Malcolm, are you ok? Say something!"

"Hmmm footstool powder. Lightning face?"

Reese laughed although he was concerned. Malcolm seemed really out of it. "No, doofus, you didn't get hit by lightning; you tripped and hit your head on the corner of the desk. Maybe you should just stay there for a couple of minutes, until you can think straight."

"Cherry bread choo-choo," Malcolm replied, nodding his head in agreement, he winced in pain from the movement. Reese partially lifted his brother up again and took his shirt off, pulling it over his head, careful not to touch the head wound. He laid Malcolm back down and wiped the blood off the floor with the shirt. He started to wipe Malcolm's face with it but had a better idea.

Reese ran into the bathroom, tossing the bloody shirt in the hamper, and got the washcloth he had just used, it was still wet. He squeezed out most of the water and ran back into the bedroom and applied the damp cloth to Malcolm's forehead. He wiped away the blood and was relieved to see the wound wasn't very deep and the bleeding had slowed to a trickle. He actually remembered something he had learned in science class, that head wounds bleed like crazy but that doesn't always mean they are serious.

"Corn wax!" Malcolm looked annoyed but he realized Reese was doing his best to help him. It made him feel good inside, knowing the guy he was constantly fighting with was worried about him and tending to him. The Wilkersons screamed and yelled a lot but they truly loved each other.

"How many fingers am I holding up?" Reese held up three fingers.

"Tuesday!" said Malcolm proudly. He realized he wasn't making sense and shot Reese a worried look. "Why … words … wrong," he managed to say very slowly, thinking hard about each syllable. "Help … brain?"

"Look, it's ok, you're fine, just a little shaken up. Don't try to talk yet, just lay there." Reese lovingly wiped his brother's forehead again and took away the washcloth, folding it over so he had a clean surface to work with. Malcolm saw the blood on it.

"Socks! My bleed blood?" Malcolm looked like he was about to freak out.

Reese calmed him, reapplying the cloth and gently wiping his brother's face. "It ok, just be quiet, it's almost stopped bleeding, you're ok." Reese brushed Malcolm's hair with his fingers, noticing how soft it was, and how good looking his brother had become and how there was blood all over the place, his brother's blood, and he had spilled it. Reese sniffed a couple of times. "I'm really sorry I pushed you, man. I'd never hurt you on purpose."

Malcolm grabbed Reese by the hand. "It's ... ok!" Malcolm realized he was speaking easier and with the right words. "Why … are … you ... naked?"

"You don't remember? What's the last thing you do remember?" Reese was still concerned and was thinking a trip to the emergency room might be a good idea.

Malcolm thought hard. "Um ... I was ... reading and after ... that ... I was on the floor ... and you were shaking me."

"I'm naked because I just took a shower and there aren't any clean towels." Reese looked ashamed. "I told you I was going to wipe my wet ass with one of your clean shirts, you grabbed it, we both got mad and um … I pushed you, that's when you tripped and hit your head." A few tears rolled down Reese's face. "I'm really, really sorry!"

"Hey it's ok, it ... was just an accident. I know you ... didn't ... hurt me on purpose ... we're always pushing and shoving each other, it's ok, Reese. Please don't ... cry." Malcolm held onto Reese's hand.

"I'm not crying! I don't ever cry, you know that!" Reese dried his eyes with the back of his free hand.

Malcolm smiled at his brother. "I think I'm ready to get up now." He started to sit up and Reese held him by the shoulders, supporting him. "Holy crap, why is the room spinning?" Malcolm closed his eyes tight for about half a minute and reopened them. Things looked better but not quite normal. There was a weird blue tint to everything. "Help me stand up, Reese, get me to the bed, ok?"

Reese got behind his brother and wrapped his long arms around Malcolm's bare chest and lifted him to his feet.

Just then Dewey walked into the room. "What are you guys doing? Why is Reese naked? Where is Malcolm's shirt? Are you guys doing dirty stuff? I'm telling!"

"Dewey, come here and help me. Malcolm's hurt, help me get him to the bed." Reese ignored the remark implying gay sex. He realized it must have looked really strange to Dewey, him naked and holding his half naked brother. Reese struggled to keep standing with Malcolm's weight pushing against him. Dewey helped by letting Malcolm lean on his shoulder, taking some of the burden off Reese. Slowly, the three boys made their way to the bed. They carefully put Malcolm down and helped him to get comfortable. Reese unlaced Malcolm's sneakers and took them off. Dewey disappeared for a minute and returned with a box of bandages, he handed it to Reese.

"Good thinking, Dewey." Reese sat on the bed next to his brother and carefully applied the largest bandage in the box to Malcolm's forehead.

Dewey stared at Reese's penis. "So are you just going to be naked all the time now? Did you lose all your clothes?" The younger boy asked.

"Oh my god, I totally forgot! " Reese got up and went to the dresser he shared with his brothers. He pulled on a pair of underwear and his jeans. Malcolm giggled. "Yeah, I was wondering how long it would take before you realized you were bare assed." All three boys laughed. Malcolm's head hurt like mad but he kept it to himself.


	2. Chapter 2

Hal was out of town on a business trip and Lois didn't get home from work until after 10:00. Dewey was already asleep and Malcolm and Reese were sitting on the sofa, watching TV.

"Boys, everything ok?" Lois asked the two suspiciously.

Reese answered. "Sure, mom. Dewey's asleep and we were just watching TV. The casserole you left was delicious, we ate at 6:00, we sent Dewey to bed at 8:30 and the house didn't catch on fire."

Lois knew Reese was lying about something but she was just too tired to figure it out. "Well, everything seems fine." Then she noticed the bandage on Malcolm's forehead. "What on Earth? Malcolm! What happened to you?"

"It's nothing mom, just a little bump." Malcolm wished she would just forget about it but knowing his mom, he knew that wasn't going to happen.

"Come over here and let me get a better look." Lois grabbed Malcolm's hand and dragged him to the kitchen, positioning him underneath the brightest light fixture in the house. She tilted her son's head back and carefully peeled away the sticky bandage. "Hmm, you didn't pass out did you?"

"No, I didn't pass out." Malcolm rolled his eyes.

"He didn't pass out but he was sure talking funny for a while," Reese chimed in from the sofa.

"Thanks a lot, Reese! I had her convinced it was nothing!" Malcolm glared at his brother, amazed at his stupidity.

"Reese, get over here! What did you mean he was talking funny?" Lois stared at the wound and began to consider medical help. The cut was only about three inches long but there was a nasty bump surrounding it and the whole area was starting to turn a revolting shade of blue.

Reese arrived and peered at his brother's head. "Wow, it didn't look that bad earlier. He was talking nonsense, mom, I asked him how many fingers I was holding up and he said Tuesday and he wanted to wax some corn."

"Were you two fighting? How exactly did he get hurt?" Lois was staring directly at Reese although her hands were still holding Malcolm's head. Both boys were scared to move.

"No, we weren't fighting!" Reese laughed, as if the idea of him and his brother fighting was ridiculous. "He was just helping me find a clean towel after my shower and he tripped and he might have bashed his head against the side of the desk when he fell."

Lois knew there had to be more to the story but let it go for once. "Malcolm, does your head hurt? Are you having headaches? Do you want to see the doctor?" She stared into his eyes and noticed his left eye, the one under his injury was a little dilated. "Did Reese do this to you?"

"No! No, I don't have headaches. No, I don't want to see the doctor and no, Reese did not do this to me. He was great, mom, he helped me up and cleaned the wound and put on the bandage and put me in bed, heck he even took off my sneakers so I could rest easier. Don't blame him for this, I was just clumsy, I tripped over my own feet." Malcolm lied about the headaches; his head was pounding even though he had swallowed a handful of aspirin.

"I want you to leave it uncovered, let the air get to it. You seem fine. I'll take another look at it in the morning. Now you two get to bed, it's a school night." Lois kissed both of her sons goodnight and thanked Reese for taking care of his brothers, even if one of them had somehow ended up with a head injury.

**The Next Morning**

Lois was half asleep as she sat at the kitchen table and sipped her morning coffee. Reese came running out of the bedroom wearing only his underwear. "MOM! MOM! MOM! MOM!"

"What in heaven's name? Reese? What is the matter with you?" Lois looked annoyed but was alarmed at her son's behavior.

"Mom! It's Malcolm, he won't wake up! Do something! Do something! He won't wake up!" Reese was hysterical, he was terrified that Malcolm was never going to wake up and it was his fault.

"My dear god," Lois said under her breath and ran into the boys' bedroom. Dewey was standing in a corner sucking his thumb, something he hadn't done in several years. He was staring at Malclom.

Lois raced to her son's bedside and sat next to him. She gently shook his shoulders. "Sweetie? It's time to get up." She shook harder. "MALCOLM," she screamed his name. "MALCOLM! Wake up! You're scaring your brothers! Wake up this instant!" The boy was completely unresponsive. Lois checked for a pulse and was relieved he had one and it was strong. She checked his breathing; it was slow but not labored in any way. She slapped his face hard. Nothing, he remained unconscious.

Reese was standing next to Lois, he was sobbing uncontrollably. His heart was breaking. "Make him wake up, mama! Do something!" Reese hadn't called Lois mama since he was 5 years old.

Lois took Reese's hand and pulled him next to her on the bed. "Sit down, sweetheart. Look, he isn't dead, that's what you thought isn't it?" Dewey heard the word dead and started screaming and ran out of the room.

Lois continued talking to Reese. "He has a good strong pulse and his breathing is normal. I don't know why he isn't waking up but we're going to get it fixed, ok? So you can stop crying."

Reese looked hurt at his mother's suggestion. He wiped his tears away with both hands and slowly got control of himself. His face was wet with tears and he had snot running out of his nose. "I don't cry, mom! You know that!"

"Of course you don't, honey, you're my big strong boy." Lois produced a tissue and held it to Reese's nose and ordered him to blow. "Now you sit here with Malcolm while I call 911."

Reese nodded and blushed a little when Lois kissed him on the cheek and patted his head.

**2,500 Miles Away**

Hal Wilkerson had been daydreaming during the boring business meeting. He was looking forward to wrapping up his trip and getting back home to Lois and the boys. He was dimly aware of something vibrating in his jacket pocket and realized at last it was his phone. He excused himself and quickly walked outside of the boardroom and down the hall towards the bathrooms. He looked at his phone. There was a glowing red icon which meant he had missed a call. He was about to hit callback when the phone started vibrating again, he recognized the number at once, it belonged to Lois. He answered immediately. "Hello sweetheart, everything ok?"

"Malcolm is in a coma, Hal. You have to come home right now."


	3. Chapter 3

Hal walked into the hospital and asked where his son was and what they could tell him about his condition. It had been a painfully long plane trip and he had driven straight from the airport. He realized he had forgotten his luggage as he was pulling into the hospital's parking lot. He shrugged. To hell with it, he thought, his son may be dying. What did he care about a bunch of smelly clothes crammed into his old cheap suitcase?

The nurse at the desk gave him directions to the intensive care unit and told him that Malcolm's condition remained unchanged, he was in a coma.

On the 5th floor Hal was stopped by a large, serious looking nurse and asked what his business was in the ICU. He stammered out his name. As soon as the nurse heard Wilkerson, she escorted Hal down the corridor and through two sets of doors. She opened another door and led him into a small room furnished with a tiny couch and several upholstered chairs. Lois was there with Reese and Dewey. It was obvious they had all been crying

"Mr. Wilkerson, Malcolm is in a deep coma." The nurse's face had become warmer as she explained the situation to the newcomer, no doubt a skill she had acquired by telling many people horrible news about their loved ones.

"I'm Helen Donaldson, the head ICU nurse. Dr. Landers is in with your son right now and as soon as he is finished he will come here and discuss Malcolm's condition with you, ok?" She turned to leave when Hal stopped her.

"Thank you. You have been very kind." Hal was on the verge of screaming. This all seemed like a nightmare. Nurse Donaldson smiled and patted Hal's hand. Then she left. Hal sat next to Reese in one of the chairs; Lois was on the small sofa with Dewey. The boys looked like hell. Both of Reese's sneakers were untied, his hair was uncombed, he was wearing a dirty shirt and he had dried snot under his nose. Dewey's head was resting on his mother's shoulder, his hair was a mess, he looked like he was in shock, and he was sucking his thumb. Lois didn't look much better but she was hanging in there.

"Lois, what in god's name happened?" Hal asked softly. Reese immediately burst into tears and blurted out that Malcolm was dead, the doctor was going to come tell them he was dead and it was his fault. The boy sobbed so hard he had trouble breathing. Hal patted his son on the back and tried to comfort him. "Come on, champ. Crying won't help anything."

Reese regained control of himself and dried his eyes and wiped his nose on the sleeve of his shirt. "I'm not crying! I never cry, you know that!"

Hal and Lois exchanged looks and rolled their eyes.

"It's no use, Hal. He's been like that ever since he found Malcolm in bed." Lois smiled at her husband, glad to have another adult to share her anxiety with, and to help her with the kids. "And for the record, no one is dead."

The door to the room opened and a tall, heavyset man wearing a white lab coat entered. "Hello, Lois, boys." He walked over to Hal and pulled up a chair, sitting down facing him. "You must be Hal, I'm Dr. Landers."

Hal listened intently as the doctor explained. "Malcolm's injury produced a very large subdural hematoma …" Hal interrupted.

"Hang on, what injury? I just got off a plane and don't have the facts yet. What injury? How did this happen?" Hal felt foolish but was glad he had spoken up.

"Oh, forgive me, Hal. No problem. Apparently your boys were roughhousing and Malcolm took a fall and struck his head very hard."

Reese erupted into tears again. "It's my fault. I killed my brother!"

Landers felt sorry for Reese but ignored him and continued speaking to Hal. "As I was saying, the injury produced a very large subdural hematoma. In other words, a large amount of blood pooled between Malcolm's brain and his skull. Lois and the boys say he seemed fine and he went to bed but the next morning he didn't wake up. He apparently was bleeding into his brain for several hours. That much pressure inside of his skull compressed his brain and put him into coma." Landers adjusted his chair so that he could see both Hal and Lois at the same time.

"We were able to relieve the pressure by putting in a shunt, a drain, in other words, and the bleeding has stopped on its own so he won't require surgery to fix the torn blood vessel. Now it's just a matter of time. His brain has to heal and hopefully regain normal functions." Landers did not smile.

Hal was the first to speak. "You say hopefully regain normal functions? What if he doesn't?"

Dr. Landers sighed. "Comas are funny things, Hal. He might wake up today or next month or he may never wake up. His brain was badly damaged from the pressure. I wish I could tell you he is going to be fine but at this point we just don't know. Of course we will closely monitor his condition and will let you know immediately if there's any change. Right now he's breathing on his own and he has a strong, healthy heart rate, so there is some good news, at least. And the fact that he's young is a real plus, he's 14, right? Kids can take some incredible damage to their bodies and bounce right back. There's no reason to give up hope at this point. I'm sorry I don't have better news for you but we are remaining optimistic about his case."


	4. Chapter 4

Three months went by with no change in Malcolm's condition. The family had returned home and Hal or Lois visited the hospital every day, sitting with their comatose son for hours. Reese and Dewey had returned to school and Francis had been told there was no reason for him to come home, he would be informed immediately if there was any news about his brother, good or bad. Francis hoped his next visit home would not be for Malcolm's funeral.

**Nightmares**

Reese Wilkerson felt his phone vibrate. He took it out of his pocket and answered. "Hello?"

"Hi, Reese! Its your brother, you know, the one you murdered? I just wanted to say thanks for killing me at age 14! I never even got a chance to shave!"

The scream woke up everyone in the house. Hal looked at Lois, "Reese again? He must have gotten another phone call. I'll go this time." Reese had been having recurring nightmares about Malcolm phoning him ever since the accident. Hal wearily stumbled out of bed and made his way to the boys' room. Reese was still screaming. Dewey had his pillow over his head, trying to drown out the anguished wails of his big brother.

Hal sat on the side of Reese's bed. "It's ok, honey, it's ok. It was just a dream." He patiently patted his son's head and tried to calm him down.

"Dad! Malcolm called me, he's dead! We have to go to the hospital before they throw him away! We have to bring him home."

"Reese, buddy, it was just a dream, Malcolm isn't dead, you just had a bad dream. You have to stop upsetting your brother like this; Dewey can't get his rest if you keep waking him up. Would you feel better if I stayed with you for a while?" Hal didn't wait for an answer. He crawled into his son's bed and held him while he cried himself out. "Dad's here, everything is going to be ok, go ahead and let it all out."

Reese said softly, "I'm not crying. I don't cry, you know that!"

**The Next Morning**

"Why is everyone looking at me like I have three heads?" Malcolm asked the nurses who had gathered at the foot of his bed. "And why exactly am I in the hospital? The last thing I remember I was talking to my mother and now I'm here. What's going on?"

A tall heavyset man wearing a white lab coat entered the room, he was panting. Malcolm didn't recognize him.

"I just had to come see this for myself! I'm Dr. Landers, young man, how are you feeling?"

Hours later, Hal and Lois had arrived and had been briefed by Dr. Landers and the nurses. Malcolm had simply woken up after 97 days in a coma. He appeared to be just fine and had no obvious mental impairment. Lois and Hal fawned over him, telling him over and over how lucky he was to have made a full recovery. Lois held on to her son and wouldn't let him go until one of the nurses gently pulled her aside and told her she needed to give him some air, she was literally smothering him.

At last everyone had left the room and Malcolm had been sternly told to get some rest and not over exert himself. He couldn't help it; he was totally overjoyed to be alive and was far too excited to just lie down. He reasoned that he had had enough sleep to last his entire lifetime. He rummaged around in the drawers of his bedside table and found what he was looking for, his cell phone and charger. There was an electrical outlet just over his head and he plugged in the charger, and then plugged the charger into his phone. He could get a quick charge in about 10 minutes. He only wanted to make one call. Ten minutes later the phone was ready.

Reese Wilkerson was walking home from school alone. He and Malcolm had walked home together every day since Malcolm was in the first grade so the walk without him seemed especially lonely. He felt his phone vibrate. He took it out of his pocket and answered. "Hello?"

"Hi Reese, it's Malcolm!"

Reese screamed and threw the phone as far away as he could. His nightmare was now happening when he was wide awake. Reese was convinced that he had totally lost his mind. One of the kids walking behind him called 911. He was still screaming when the cops arrived. They tried to quiet him down the best they could and drove him to the emergency room. It took a massive dose of a sedative to calm him enough to tell him his brother had recovered and if he was quiet, he could see him.

The doctors wanted to keep Malcolm in the hospital for another couple of weeks, giving him a chance to fully recover, but Hal and Lois demanded to take him home after a few days. He had completely regained his motor skills and could walk unaided and his mind was as sharp as ever. Slowly, everything in the Wilkerson home returned to normal, except that Malcolm and Reese never fought again. Well, almost never.


End file.
